Starlight
by andrastaie
Summary: Set pre-Blight. The Sabrae Clan has recently crossed into Ferelden and a restless Isethari Mahariel seeks solace in the stars and, eventually, her best friend Tamlen.
1. Chapter 1

Isethari peered up at the clear night sky from her bedroll. A light breeze brought on the comforting creek of the aravels as she studied the stars. Her eyes danced between the recognizable shapes of the star clusters, humming contentedly. Shifting onto her back to get a better view, she flopped one arm over her stomach. And what started as a gentle hum grew into more audible words. An old song floating from her lips, a tale of a cluster that resided high in the sky. In her serenity, Isethari forgot near everything around her. The sounds of the breeze shifting through the wood of the aravels, the chirping of the night birds, even the gentle snores of her clan mates fell away. It was simply her, the stars, and the soft lilt of her airy voice.

But the peace that she had created for herself was not to last. The sharp jabbing of someone's toes on her thigh caused Isethari to squeak in shock. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she looked around for the owner of the offending foot. Merrill had propped herself up on her elbow, glaring in Isethari's direction. Her friend's eyes glinted in the dim light of the moon that washed over the camp.

"Some of us are trying to sleep, lethallan," she hissed.

Huffing in response, Isethari put on her best pout for Merrill. It did not seem to sway her friend's annoyance.

"Ir abelas, Merrill," she finally whispered in resignation.

This placated the mage, as Merrill then laid herself back down and turned over. Isethari listened to her friend's breathing. Waiting for it to even out into a rhythmic pattern. She then began to count, getting as far as twenty before she decided it was safe.

Isethari got up with great care. Her blankets pooled by her bare feet as she first crouched, and then stood. Reaching behind her head, she grasped at her long hair and tied it back. Just enough to keep the bothersome pale locks from getting in her way. Isethari then climbed over those she had laid her bedroll out near, careful not to disturb anyone. She was especially careful as she passed Merrill, fearing the wrath of the First if she was rudely awoken again.

A branch cracked a short ways off. Isethari froze where she was. Her eyes darted about until she spotted the source of the sound. Junar was making the rounds of the camp as he kept watch. Once he turned away, Isethari exhaled the breath she'd been holding. She then ducked behind the closest aravel and paused once more. Listening. Waiting. No more sounds came. At least nothing outside the ordinary melody of nature. Gathering her wits, Isethari took off at a run away from the camp. Ducking around bushes, jumping over some over grown roots, and dodging low branches she ran.

When the creak of the aravels was long behind her, Isethari let out a giddy, airy laugh. A large smile splayed on her lips as she enjoyed the sensations of the world around her. Soon enough, the thick of trees fell away and she came upon a small clearing. Slowing down to a stop, Isethari looked up to the stars. They were even easier to see from here. The grin on her lips widened as she allowed herself to fall backward into the grass. A long, content sigh fell from her lips as she peered skyward. Her gaze darted about, seeking her favorite of the constellations. When she finally found it again, a lopsided smile formed on her lips as she traced it with one finger.

Isethari couldn't be certain how long she lay in the grass, but sleep soon began to call to her. Tugging her into the grips of the Fade. She resisted, forcing herself back up to her feet. Her pace back toward the camp was not nearly as gleeful as her departure. Now she trudged along, far less care for what branch she brushed past, or what shrubs grasped at her legs. Only when the familiar sight of the aravels filled her vision did Isethari take more care. Fenarel was on guard duty now, sitting on a bench with his back propped up against the aravel master Ilen used for his craft.

Try as she might, Isethari was unable to slip past him unnoticed. Yet her friend said nothing. He merely tilted his head, watching as she settled back down next to Merrill.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't until the next day that Isethari heard anything about her disappearance the night before.

"Find anything of interest in the woods, lethallan?" A coy smile tugged at Fenarel's lips.

Isethari scowled at him as he jogged to catch up to her. Stubbornly she shook her head, refusing to dignify his silly question with an answer. It wasn't as though she had anything to hide, yet still she could not voice why she had sneaked out of camp. It felt, well, embarrassing. And childish. Mostly childish.

"Nothing at all?" he pressed.

Isethari stopped this time, squinting at him against the morning's light. It was quite clear that there was something in his head. Some idea of what had happened or why she had disappeared. Setting her hands upon her hips, she stared her friend down. Fenarel said nothing, though, instead wearing a knowing smirk.

Creators, what did that boy have in his head? Isethari bit on the inside of her cheek, considering her options while resisting the urge to question him. To open herself up to the endless questioning and teasing. After a few more moments of silence, it hit her. The only thought that made sense. He believed she'd gone off with someone! Isethari's eyes bugged out as she stared at Fenarel, then narrowed them in annoyance. The indignation she felt did nothing to prevent a bright cherry color from blooming across her cheeks.

"Dread Wolf take you and your crazy ideas, lethallin!" she exclaimed. Exasperation and annoyance ruffled her tone.

He laughed, shrugging her off as he turned away to jog off. Just before catching up to the other hunters on their way out, he looked over his shoulder and flashed her a wicked grin. The color in Isethari's cheeks only deepened, flushing outward to cover even the tips of her ears. At this, her scowl deepened. Huffing in her displeasure, she resumed her tasks for the day.

Helping master Ilen was one of her least favorite duties. She preferred to be out with the hunters, or scouting out in the woods. Without a doubt, it was far more exciting than her current chores. Walking around gathering materials, or marking locations for those she could not carry with her upon her map. Truthfully, Isethari could think of a great many things she'd prefer to be doing. _Or rather someone_. The unbidden thought sent a jolt through her body and she dropped the ironbark she'd been carrying. Cursing at herself, she tried her best to dampen her thoughts. To focus back on her irritation, to hold onto that instead. The alternative was… disquieting, to say the last.

Marethari had insisted that she study with Ilen. Her skill with blades or a bow were not high. Nor was her ability to track animals. And so she found herself relegated to her least favorite thing with an overactive mind that liked to wander. Her afternoon did not improve overmuch. Rather than gathering materials, she now studied right alongside Ilen. He was patient with her, as he always was. And yet Isethari could not find peace in what she was attempting. Carving just a simple bow created great annoyance within her. And a stormy cloud of curses hung over her head.

"Do not be so impatient, da'len," Ilen instructed calmly. "It will come in time."

Time. Isethari snorted and glared at the splintering piece of wood in her hands. Muttering to herself, she set aside her recent attempt and picked up a new piece to carve.

"Fenedhis!" she barked.

The scowl that formed marred the delicate vallaslin on her face. Lips twisted in a sneer as she glowered at yet another failed attempt. One of the many that day. Ilen let out a deep sigh, picking up the splintered wood from her hands and looking it over.

"I see improvements," he murmured. "Perhaps we can continue tomorrow, da'len." Setting the piece down, he turned and smiled to her.

Isethari returned the smile, though the corners of her lips barely turned upwards in the gesture. She knew better. She knew her skill was not changing and no amount of practice was going to fix that. And she was rather convinced that he'd had enough with her for the day. She knew she would have. Anyone would have.

"Thank you, master Ilen." She gave a gracious half-bow to him before turning and departing with great haste.

More than pleased to be free for the evening, Isethari darted to one of the other aravels. Ducking inside, she grabbed at one of the bows, then snagged a quiver with some arrows. Stepping out, she wound her way through the camp.

The sun sunk ever lower in the sky, but evening was not quite upon them. For this, Isethari was pleased, and thanked Elgar'nan for giving her more time in the day than she'd expected to have. Or, rather, more time to herself.

As she headed out into the woods, she could hear hahren Paivel weaving a tale for a group of children. Without even looking, Isethari could imagine the scene. Children gathered around the crackling fire, all leaning close to Paivel as his stories unfurled. Hanging on each word with mounting excitement. She smiled to herself at the memory. At the time that she had been one of those children. Huddled close to the fire with her friends, eagerly taking in his stories. Even now, some of his stories stuck with her still. Especially those that involved the shapes of the heavens.

Isethari was just about free and clear when someone caught her wrist. It was a gentle, yet firm grasp. She yelped in surprise, body tensing as she spun about.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, lethallan?"

As she whirled about, she gave an ever so slight gasp to see Tamlen. He was surprisingly close, lips curled up and eyes crinkled in a bright grin. Isethari mustered a sheepish smile in return. His blue eyes danced down to the bow in her hands, eyebrows shooting upward as he now looked at her expectantly.

"No… where?" she stammered.

Heat rose to her cheeks as she stared at her friend. Words swirled around in her mind, yet she couldn't pull any of them out to string a proper sentence together. Not now. Not in front of him. Not when he was the reason she craved to be a better hunter. Not when he'd been the someone on her mind all day. Tamlen chuckled, his voice warm and rich. Isethari's heart clenched at the inviting sound. Desire pooling within her along with the wish that he'd never stop.

"Nowhere, hm?" He canted his head, a sly grin on his lips.

Her voice still felt lost amidst her wishes and desires. Her mouth gaped like a fish, opening and closing at random as words attempted to form.

"Are you all right?" he asked. Genuine concern took over his expression.

Silence settled again. Isethari peered into his intent, concerned gaze. Until, finally, she was able to squeak out a "yes, fine". She swallowed and cursed up a storm in her mind over her foolishness. It had only been recently that she'd fumbled so much around Tamlen. Only when Fenarel pointed out that she'd trailed their friend around like a lost puppy. Or stared at him when she thought no one was watching. That had set her mind ill at ease on the whole matter. And she'd spent quite a bit of time examining her feelings since then.

Soon enough, she became aware that her friend was still holding onto her wrist. Hold, of course, being a term used loosely. In fact she could have extricated herself any time she wished. If, indeed, she wished to do so. And doing so was among the last things on Isethari's mind in that moment.

"Actually I… I was going to go practice," she said, voice quiet.

Tamlen's eyes brightened, the concern washed away. "Why didn't you say so?" he asked with a laugh. "Come on."

Unexpectedly, Isethari found she was being tugged along. Her eyes darted around as she trotted along beside Tamlen. Curiosity piqued as to where they were going, but she followed with no protest or word of question. They passed the clan's statue of Fen'harel, yet Isethari hardly noticed. Her attention focused inward, on the fluttering in her belly. The warmth that was threatening to spread and make her knees weak. Tamlen seemed ever oblivious as he led her along to their destination.

Isethari was focused on trying to keep herself on her feet, and to temper the butterflies. She didn't notice when Tamlen stopped short, unable to prevent herself from crashing into him. She bit down hard on her lower lip to prevent her scream of surprise, instead came a strangled groan. Lucky enough for the both of them, Tamlen held his footing.

"Lethallin!" she chided. "Warn me next time! I could have hurt you." A frown touched her lips for just the barest of moments, a sorry attempt to hide her embarrassment.

He scoffed at her, but a slight laugh crinkled his features. He stepped away, setting down his bow and quiver. Isethari started to mimic the idea when he stepped in front of her and shook his head. Taking the quiver, he drew out an arrow for her and handed it back. A smile curled all the way up his lips to glint in his eyes.

Isethari stared awkwardly at the arrow in her hand, sucking in a deep breath to steel her nerves. She'd been practicing on her own as of late, wanting to get better. It never seemed to work, of course, but it did not keep her from trying. The peace she got from it was more enjoyable than when she worked with Ilen, at least. A small victory, but one nonetheless.

Her eyes followed Tamlen. He was using one of his hunting knives to carve a target into a nearby tree. Isethari's focus was not on what her friend was doing, rather her eyes watched the muscles of his arms ripple and flex as he went about his work. She needed to breathe in and out in a few short, staccato breaths to settle herself. To tamp down on the flaring heat that threatened to overwhelm her, to knock her off her feet.

He was soon done and Isethari took in another breath. Settling into her stance and nocking the arrow, she stole what nerves she had left. One more deep breath and Isethari drew back, ready to release when her friend stepped in.

Tamlen said nothing as he adjusted her posture. Only once he was satisfied did he step back and speak. "Do you feel that?" he asked.

Pursing her lips, she nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so."

"Good. Now release."

Isethari did as he bade. But her posture had slipped, the arrow veered just enough to graze the side of the tree. She frowned, cursing inwardly as he handed her another arrow to repeat the process. He stepped closer again and this time as he adjusted her stance, he spoke and pointed out where she'd gone wrong. Her mind lit on fire at hearing him speak, feeling his fingers grazing across her skin. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried that much harder to focus. He stepped away and she repeated the process, this time coming a bit closer.

The process repeated and each time she got just a tiny bit closer. But it was not enough for her, not quick enough. She released another arrow and this time it veered further, not even grazing the tree. A whimper of frustration leaped from her throat.

"It can't be perfect every time," Tamlen offered. He stepped forward, an encouraging smile upon his lips. "Here."

Moving close behind her, Tamlen wrapped his arms around her to lift the bow back up. Isethari's breath caught, heart hammering in her chest. She swallowed and allowed him to move her arms at will. Her brain couldn't decide what to do, couldn't settle between focusing on the lesson. Or focusing on _him_. To do both would be an incredible feat of willpower. One that Isethari full well knew she could not perform.

"Did you hear me, lethallan?"

His breath tickled the sensitive tip of one ear. And she wanted to scream. Or moan. _Creators!_ How could he be so oblivious? With an ever so slight shake of her head, she pulled out what she could of her voice to answer him.

"No."

"You're impossible," he whispered.

A breathy laugh escaped his lips as he tipped her right hand up to nock the arrow in her grasp. In that moment, Isethari closed her eyes and prayed. She prayed to every god, even sent one to Fen'harel, that this was not a dream. Eyes opening again, she drew back on the bow with Tamlen's help, and released.

Mere moments later, the arrow sunk into the center of the target he'd created. Her jaw dropped and a happy whoop flew out of her lips in her joy. But it did not last. Embarrassment wrested control again, forcing color into her cheeks. Tamlen released her hands and wrapped his arms around her torso in a hug as he chuckled.

"See, lethallan? You'll get better."

Isethari realized, much to her chagrin, that she did not wish for this to end. The gentle invitation of his laughter, the warm embrace that let her feel someone cared. That _he_ cared.

All too soon the heat of his body was disappearing. He coughed, the sound far more awkward than Isethari expected. She turned to look at him as he stepped away. Collecting his quiver and bow, he also collected the arrows that she'd been using. Their sunlight had disappeared, the full moon providing substantial light.

"Marethari will probably wonder where we ran off to," she said. Her own voice felt bizarre to her ears, but she smiled in hopes he wouldn't notice.

"You're probably right," he agreed with a nod of his head.

Once Isethari had collected her own bow and quiver, she trotted alongside her friend in - much to her surprise - amicable silence.


End file.
